I'd like to keep gameplay in character as much as possible. Use regular text to describe what your character looks like, what they are doing, etc.
"Use bolded text to indicate things your character is saying out loud."Use italics when you want to insert some internal commentary/thoughts from your character
When you need to make out-of-character comments, such as asking me or another player a question, use the out-of-character text. You can also use this text when making dice rolls.
Perception 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
To everyone:
When you need to say something just to me or just to another player, use the spoiler function. We will play it on an honors system not to read things addressed to other people. Of course, as the GM, I reserve the right to know what you are saying if you are whispering to each other. But other players should not be reading secret messages meant for someone else
I'm not going to be too harsh if you forget to follow these rules exactly but it will help keep things straight if everyone tries to follow this same system.
Sitting in wait for the others to arrive is a rather plain looking elven figure. His dark hair and red eyes a contrast to what one normally pictures for an elf. He appears to have very few possessions, with but a simple backpack, waterskin, a bow with some arrows, and a rapier. He passes the time reading a book.
Male Half-Elf [1] Bard (Detective) | HP10 / AC14 / T11 / FF13 / Fort +2 / Ref +3 / Will +3 / CMD 13 / Init +1 / Perc +10
A male half-elf slips into the room. He wears a simple cloak and carries a masterwork backpack, which looks quite full. He is armed with a longsword, rapier, and shortbow. He takes another puff from his pipe as he enters, and he tips his hunting crop at the other elf in the room.
Ah, hello there. It appears as though you've been waiting here for some time. The name's Whit. Whit holds out his hand. Would you care for some tea while we wait?
Preceded by the scent of a very expensive Chelish cigar, a very short, very old halfling man walks in, dressed in worn leathers with a wide-brimmed hat tilted to one side atop his white-haired pate. An odd contraption is slung across his back (musket) and he puffs in on the stogie perched at the corner of his mouth.
"Name's Scruffy. Scruffy Flaxseed. Ya'll call me by any other name, and ol'Ev here gonna pop you one."
He saunters in and finds a place low enough for him to rest comfortably against.
"Evie was startin' ta nag on me a bit...again...so I volunteered for this here mission. Nice ta meet ya."
Venture-Captain Adril Hestram bursts into the room, his massive arms waving all of you toward a nearby door.
Isn't there supposed to be another one of you?
Nevermind. Follow me. Inside. Let's hope he gets here soon.
Hestram wipes the sweat from his brow and takes a long draw from a waterskin before sitting down heavily in the chair behind his desk. Although Hestram has a reputation as a fierce warrior, often seen sparring in the yard of the Grand Lodge, his face looks rather drawn and distraught. It doesn't seem possible for such a large and powerful man to be defeated and yet his shoulders slump as he settles into his chair.
One of our number has fallen.
Hestram pauses to let out an audible sigh and take another swig of water before continuing.
Our esteemed Venture-Captain Targos Min-Katheer is dead. His last wishes are simple: he wants his mortal remains to take one last trip along the Silken Way to his home city of Katheer to rest with his ancestors. He was one of our finest and we aim to honor his request. It is for this reason I've called you all together.
Adril points one sausage-thick finger at the map on the table, tracing a line from Absalom to the mouth of the Pashman River, then snaking up the river to the oasis city of Lopul.
Here is where you can gather up his remains and join the silken caravan, one of the only caravans daring the harsh journey across the desert from Lopul to Katheer. This mission is simple. A joyful ride really. But we insist you give it the attention it deserves. A few weeks in the sun, seeing the sights of the desert. A dream assignment.
Oh, and before you go I have a few missives for you all.
Andoran/Silver Crusade:
Fellow Free Citizen,
Many warm greetings, friend. I hope this communique finds you well. It has come to my attention that the Pathfinder Society's next mission takes you to the oasis town of Lopul. I have included a proclamation along with this missive, a scroll meant to urge the locals to throw off the oppressive auspice of the local sheikh and the satrap. Post this proclamation in a visible and public location in Lopul for all to see. Let the fires of unrest begin to smolder in that nation of slavers and tyrants.
As always our mission must be to spread freedom to our fellow men and women of the world. Keep this close to your heart and keep your sword at the ready. The deserts of Qadira are filled with venomous things and evil monsters.
Respectfully,
Captain Colson Maldris
Cheliax/Shadow Lodge:
Her Majestrix's Most Loyal Servant,
May this letter find you amidst the darkest delights.
Old Taldor and Qadira have long been at one another's throats like two jackals in heat. We would love nothings more than to see these hostilities continue and intensify. Dark eyes of our in Qadira report that trade along their Silken Way has been disrupted as of late. Investigate this, and if you find any hint of Taldor's involvement in Qadira's recent trade troubles, be sure to gather some evidence of this and bring it to me. It will prove a delightful bargaining piece in future dealings with both nations.
As always you have my thanks, and my most sinful desires. I look forward to your safe return.
Yearningly,
Paracountess Zarta Dralneen
Osirion/Grand Lodge:
Honored Subject of the Ruby Prince,
Greetings to you and honor to your ancestors. The winds tell me many things, and today they speak of your upcoming assignment in Qadira. You know as well as I the long and bloody history between our people and theirs; however, it is no mission of petty vengeance I charge you with.
Irori sees into the past. He is the Father of History. His worship has all but vanished among the Qadirans, though he once rivaled Sarenrae for their favor. Deep in the deserts along the Silken Way trade route lies an old long forgotten temple to his wisdom. I would see it given proper respects. Travelers' rumors speak of monsters lairing within, befouling the place with their offal. I would see this temple cleaned and restored as best as possible and any unwelcome denizens removed. Do this and you honor the Father of the Past himself-a deed unlikely to be forgotten.
Respectfully,
Amenopheus, The Sapphire Sage
Qadira/Lantern Lodge:
Servant of the Satrap,
I am pleased to learn your next mission shall bring you home. I miss our golden sands and silken cities with all my heart. Enjoy Qadira's warm embrace, and know you have my deepest envy.
While you are in the satrapy, I have an important mission for you. I have learned that you accompany the remains of a fellow Qadiran Pathfinder named Targos Min-Katheer, a venture-captain who supposedly succumbed to old age. I have reason to think otherwise, and would like you to see if you can discover the truth of his demise. If you find his death was the act of another, you must collect diyya: the solemn recompense. This diyya can be an item of power or great value. Once recovered, return it to me immediately. Beyond this diyya, there need be no vengeance. What is done is done, but we shall demand payment for it.
Additionally, there is a disruption of trade along the Silken Way as of late. This proves most troublesome. We have lost several caravans to forces unknown. If you discover who is behind this, eliminate them with extreme prejudice.
As always, your toils shall not go unrewarded, and the satrap praises your noble service.
Sincerely,
Pasha Muhlia Al-Jakri
Taldor/Sczarni:
Agent of the Empire,
The spice merchants, scimitar-wielding silken slaves, and the flea-bitten camels of Qadira ever plague our southeastern border. News that your next mission probes Qadira has reached our ears. I have need of your services while you navigate the treacherous sands.
Our empire is much gloried in many arenas, but in the treacherous waters of trade and commerce, we have been continually outdone by our rivals to the southeast. Qadira rules much of the Silken Way, the valued trade corridor to the Eastern empires. It is imperative we gain our own interests along this route and repel theirs. We need to obtain an operative along the route, a successful merchant with the necessary contacts to expand our interests there. Find such a person, and give him a message along with this small sack of gold. Let him know there is a good deal more where that came from if he will but arrange for our wares to make it East without the satrap's greedy fingers reaching into our pockets. Do this without anyone's knowledge.
Also, we need to keep our empire out of entangling conflicts with Qadira right now. If you discover anyone from our august empire making trouble along the trade routes, be sure to cover up their involvement if you can.
As always, you have the thanks of a grateful empire.
Joyfully yours,
Baron Jacquo Dalsine
At this time you can all make me Knowledge (geography or local) and Knowledge (nobility) checks. You will have some time in Absalom to buy supplies and prepare before you head out for Lopul. It will take a few weeks of travel by boat up the Pashman River followed by a short distance hike to get to the oasis city of Lopul
Going to be right up front about this so we don't have any trouble. Seems some Qadiran caravans have been having some trouble along the Silken Way route we'll be taking. People want me to investigate what is going on, bring back evidence of who is behind the trouble, and put an end to it if possible.
Male Half-Elf [1] Bard (Detective) | HP10 / AC14 / T11 / FF13 / Fort +2 / Ref +3 / Will +3 / CMD 13 / Init +1 / Perc +10
Nods to new entrant Scruffy. Takes his note from Hestram and scans the page.
Vortwyn, good chap! You shared my tea and neglected to tell me that you're a part of the Shadow Lodge as well? Unless of course your letter is just very similar to my own....
Male Half-Elf [1] Bard (Detective) | HP10 / AC14 / T11 / FF13 / Fort +2 / Ref +3 / Will +3 / CMD 13 / Init +1 / Perc +10
Also, yes, I do believe there is another on his way. I heard earlier this afternoon that he pulled a prank on a fellow at the pub yesterday, and the man retaliated by sneaking into our late-comer's room in the wee hours before daylight this morning for a little mischief. Yada yada yada, our chap's still cleaning honey out of his hair and attempting to retrieve his belongings from a raft floating halfway between here and Pilot Island. Just gossip, of course. But either way, he should be here soon.
"Hmm, seems there's some site holy to Irori that might be out in the desert, maybe fallen into a bit of disrepair. Sure, they want the old man to bring a broom and clean it up..."
Scruffy mutters on for a few minutes about being put upon in his old age.
"Oh, and they might have monsters livin' in them too..."
Seems my dear Paracountess has turned to the Shadow Lodge for a bit of aid in this matter. Doesn't seem to trust her Chelaxian agants all that much. Well, no matter. I'll be glad for the help in ferreting this out. Not necessarily the best as finding things, unless it's knowledge, or a good spell.
Lopul is a caravan-city ruled by the Sheikh Samraf Al-Hadari, humble servant to the padishah emperor of Kelesh.
Vortwyn, Whit, and Scruffy:
Lopul is a great caravan city erected around the crystal life-giving waters of the Pool of Sihbon, the largest oasis for over one hundred miles. The settlement's population fluctuates wildly with the comings and goings of trade caravans, but usually has at least a thousand locals and travelers in residence at any one time. Most of the city is comprised of tents and temporary dwellings erected by merchants and caravan masters, with only about a quarter of the city's structures being permanently built around the Pool of Sihbon itself. Among these permanent structures are a half-dozen caravanserai, the fortress of the sheikh, and twoscore domed dwellings constructed of mud brick. Targos Min-Katheer once lived in one of these mud domes. It is likely that his body is being held in his house, waiting for you to retrieve it.
(Still figuring this all out but better late than never!)
A tough looking half-orc female carrying all of her equipment tries to quietly insert herself into the room hoping that no one notices how late she is.
"Seems we are serving the same people little one" she says it Scruffy's direction. "Mayhaps all of these missions are connected"
VC Hestram speaks up. "Well, now that you're all here, you'd best be going."
You had time to make purchases before you left Absalom. You can list them in ooc text if you'd like.
The last few weeks traveling by boat up the Pashman River and then hiking the short distance to the oasis city have been grueling to the extreme. A poisonous river snake claimed one of your guides; you remember his last gasps well, and how his face bloated to twice its usual size within seconds of the bite.
Before you now lies Lopul, the great caravan city, erected around the crystal life-giving waters of the Pool of Sihbon, the largest oasis for over one hundred miles. Mud brick houses baking in the sun and great canvas tents crowd the central copse of palm and date trees.
A small mud-brick, domed dwelling lies at the end of a humble, sandy street here in the heart of the caravan city. The scent of the nearby oasis still reaches you, and a hive of bees, attracted by the nearby water, hangs from a date palm next to the house. The wails of mourners and cries of women and children reach your ears, and you can see a small crowd gathered outside the house’s single door, its members crying and tearing their garments. Whether professionally hired mourners or sorrow-filled residents outpouring legitimate grief for the loss of a local hero is unclear, but the emotion seems genuine enough.
Male Half-Elf [1] Bard (Detective) | HP10 / AC14 / T11 / FF13 / Fort +2 / Ref +3 / Will +3 / CMD 13 / Init +1 / Perc +10
Whit has been taking his time surveying the scene. He takes a few more puffs from his pipe, then turns to his fellow adventurers.
This appears a solemn place. All of these mourners--Targos Min-Katheer was obviously well loved among these people. Of course, we can't know that for certain just by looking at them. I'd like to talk with these people before we enter Min-Katheer's home. Hopefully we can uncover a bit of the details surrounding his death. Perhaps we may gain some insight for our travels along the Silken Way as well--and maybe about that holy site.
Whit raises an eyebrow as if to ask the others of their thoughts, then turns and walks toward the mourners, hoping to gain some information.
The Roll20 map is linked at the top of the page now. I've placed some tokens on there for each of you. I can give you exclusive control of your token once you log on.
Whit asks around and most people are sad to see such a renowned adventurer pass. He seems to have finally succumbed to his old age.
Assuming you guys are going to his house?
Knocking on the front door brings an answer in the form of a man in sackcloth with ashes poured over his freshly shaved head. His face is sickly pale under the coating of ashes and part of one ear is missing. His hands are wrapped in dirty bandages. (You may make Heal checks) He respectfully moves out of the way and motions inside without a word, giving you all a wide berth into the room.
The front room of the house holds many more mourners, many of them sickly looking and wearing bandages similar to those worn by the man who opened the door. A curtained doorway blocks access to the house's lone bedroom.
Shortly after you enter, a man wearing priestly robes and a black jackal death mask emerges from behind the curtain. (You may make KN religion checks)
You notice ashen patches on his hands and couple of missing fingers, indicating that this man also suffers from the same disease as everyone else.
The man speaks up, his voice muffled by the mask. "Hello, travelers. My name is Ben-Garri. The honored body is receiving funeral preparations currently. You will need to return at nightfall."
Scruffy makes sure he's wearing gloves and doesn't touch anything these people do. When he enters he'd take his musket from his back, not wanting it to bump into doorframes or the like, holding it across his chest/shoulder in a relaxed manner.
Why would one who worships Lamashtu be tending to the body. Is the leprosy your doing as well, or just a sign of your goddess' favor on your and your companions?
1. Vortwyn
2. Ben-Garri
3. Scruffy, Bahiti, and Whit (any order you like, since you can hold for each other anyways)
4. Leper cultists
Post your rolls and describe your actions on here. Use roll20 (linked at the top of the page) to make your movements on the map. You may place yourselves inside where you would have been standing while talking to Ben-Garri.
Post your rolls and describe your actions on here. Use roll20 (linked at the top of the page) to make your movements on the map. You may place yourselves inside where you would have been standing while talking to Ben-Garri.
Post your rolls and describe your actions on here. Use roll20 (linked at the top of the page) to make your movements on the map. You may place yourselves inside where you would have been standing while talking to Ben-Garri.
Which mini is which?
They should have names attached to them. I'll look into it later if you can't figure it out.
Post your rolls and describe your actions on here. Use roll20 (linked at the top of the page) to make your movements on the map. You may place yourselves inside where you would have been standing while talking to Ben-Garri.
Which mini is which?
They should have names attached to them. I'll look into it later if you can't figure it out.
"Ya'll wanna drop to the ground and keep y'er hands where we can see 'em, right?" He growls out in a "menacing grandpa" kind of voice after firing off the rather loud shot, perhaps the first firearm many here have ever heard give a gun report.
Then he mutters under his breath...
Halfling Language:
"Assumin' ya have hands still attached, that is...Evie always scolded me to eat right or somethin'd fall off some day...maybe I shouldn't tell her 'bout this..."
Bahiti moves into the room and confronts the two hurt cultists. (goes into a controlled rage and gets bonuses for being next to two enemies, +1 hit and AC)
Swings at the one on her right - 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 171d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Male Half-Elf [1] Bard (Detective) | HP10 / AC14 / T11 / FF13 / Fort +2 / Ref +3 / Will +3 / CMD 13 / Init +1 / Perc +10
Whit (finally) steps into the room, looks around at the damage already done, and sees that Cultist 2 is about to fall. Whit unsheathes his longsword as he steps up to meet the cultist, taking swift aim at the man's neck.
Well, you still need to make an attack roll to hit him but he's at zero so in the interest of keeping things moving I'll say it hit and he's down.
Cultist 3 shambles forward, trying to protect Ben-Garri.
1. Vortwyn
2. Ben-Garri
3. Scruffy, Bahiti, and Whit (any order you like, since you can hold for each other anyways)
4. Leper cultists
Vortwyn is up
Edit: Also since your BAB is only 0 it would be a move action to draw out your sword (you have to have a BAB of 1 to draw it out as part of your move action), but again I'll just say it happened the way you described to keep things moving and because he was at zero and couldn't do much anyways. But just for future reference.
Bahitit moves up and over the table (accounted for difficult terrain) and positions herself next to the remaining cultist and Ben-Garri. Again getting bonuses for being adjacent to 2 enemies.
Will save to penetrate the Sanctuary. 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
Scruffy reloads his musket (Standard action), then hops up on the table (Acrobatics is +9, can't fail that), obviously getting ready to shoot Ben-Garri once he's got a clear shot (i.e. next round).
"Get 'im! Just don't step in front of Ol'Ev here!"
